


Get to Know You Better

by LunaMoth116



Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Banter, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dialogue Heavy, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Gift Giving, Humor, Light Angst, Prompt Fill, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 16:58:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17145560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaMoth116/pseuds/LunaMoth116
Summary: You only ever get one first Christmas with someone. The ’bots are determined to get their first Christmas present for Jonah just right.Title from the Donny Hathaway classic“This Christmas”.





	Get to Know You Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_technicolor_whiscash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_technicolor_whiscash/gifts).



> _Ever since I noticed my (unintentional) trend of Trying New Things with every story I’ve posted, I’ve been determined to keep it up. And with that, here goes my first fic exchange! the_technicolor_whiscash, I hope you enjoy this. The prompt was as follows: “the Bots thinking about what present to get the host (writer’s choice as to which one)”_  
>  _I will happily take any excuse to write ’bot-’bot interactions; once they claw their way out of my brain, they practically write themselves. For anyone who’s familiar with my other work in this fandom (both of you) — this is not explicitly set in the Down to Earth ’verse, though it could easily fit into the future of that ’verse if you like. I figured it was high time I showed Jonah some love, too. (I have tentative plans for him in the aforementioned ’verse, but no promises as to when they'll come to fruition.)_  
>  _Every gift mentioned is 100% real, btw; I’ll spare you the product placement, but if you’re interested, you can find all of these things via the internet or other resources. (Also, see if you can spot the_ SNL _references!)_  
>  _Much love and thanks, as always, to my dear Dandelionish, whose friendship and support is my year-round gift; to OtakuElf, whose loyalty is a gift I never expected; to the_technicolor_whiscash, for the great prompt; to Paycheckgurl, who invited me to the exchange, and whose sweet comments always make my day; and to speccygeekgrrl, for organizing this exchange and others that have produced some wonderful work. This was a blast, and I hope it shows; this may be my first fic exchange, but it won’t be my last. :) Thank you for reading, and Merry Christmas to you all!_
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** _I own nothing but my throw blanket covered in three-toed sloths — which I’m quite happy with, to be honest._

_“Hang all the mistletoe_  
_I'm gonna get to know you better_  
_This Christmas…”_  


_~ “This Christmas”, Donny Hathaway_

 

“All right, Tom.” Crow crossed his arms. “So what’s up with this super-top-secret, Deep-Throat-confidential, kill-your-own-mother-if-she-finds-out meeting?”

He, Tom Servo, Gypsy and Cambot had all gathered in Tom’s room after Jonah had gone to bed that — well, it was hardly “night” so much as it was Jonah’s preferred bedtime. Just before that day’s experiment, Tom had called all of them together and told them to come meet in his room after Jonah was in bed, and not to tell anyone else about it. He had refused to say more. And so, here they all were, more out of curiosity than anything else.

“Guys — and Gypsy,” Tom began, “I realized after breakfast today, Christmas is a month away and we haven’t decided what we’re going to get Jonah.”

The other three exchanged glances for a moment before Crow burst out laughing, Gypsy quickly following suit and Cambot joining in with a merry series of beeps. Only Tom sat there in unamused silence.

 _“That’s_ your big secret, Tom?” Crow finally gasped out. “And I thought it was going to be something _important!”_

Tom gave him his best eyeless glare. “What, getting Jonah the right Christmas gift isn’t important to you?”

Crow shrugged. “I was just going to stick to the time-honored tradition of putting it off, and putting it off, until suddenly I realize, hey! It’s Christmas Eve and the stores are closing in an hour. Then I scramble out the door to the convenience store down the street and buy fifteen candy bars in a flavor nobody likes, plus some weird trinket the owner stuck by the register for five bucks. Then I shove it all into a torn gift bag with some old tissue paper and a tag I had to white out and write over, and there’s my gift for Jonah.”

“You haven’t done that in at least two years,” Tom pointed out.

“And I think it’s a fine time to bring the tradition back,” Crow replied.

“For our first Christmas with Jonah?” Tom scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“What makes you think we’re even going to _have_ Christmas with Jonah?” Crow asked. “It’s a whole month away. Heck, we could escape this bucket of bolts and be back on Earth in time for dinner tomorrow.”

Tom looked hard at him. “Maybe. And maybe flying monkeys will coast up here on a bridge of rainbows and mermaid tears to take us home tonight. But I don’t think so.” He moved closer, lowering his voice. “And neither do you.”

“Bingo! I don’t think — I _know!_ ” Crow declared proudly.

“Why would the monkeys need a bridge if they can fly?” Gypsy asked.

“Not my point, Gypsy,” Tom gritted out. He turned to Crow. “Well, _I_ don’t _think_ you _know_. Or…you know, but you won’t admit it.”

“I can admit it, Tommy.” Crow stood straight up to look at him. “I can admit that it probably won’t be tonight. But _you_ won’t admit that we might not —” He quickly caught himself. “We aren’t going to have Christmas with Jonah.”

“How can I admit something I know isn’t true?” Tom demanded.

 _Beep-beep-beep._ Crow rolled his eyes. “So kind of you to steal my LAPD joke, Cambot.”

“Work with me, Crow,” Tom said, the thinnest veneer of patience barely disguising his irritation. “Let’s pretend, just for a minute, that we _are_ going to be here for Christmas. It’ll be our first with Jonah. What would we give him?”

Crow shrugged. “We could hide Kool-Aid in the shower head instead of chicken cubes.”

“We can do that whenever we want,” Tom said. “In fact, why haven’t we? But it’s our first Christmas with Jonah. We can do better than that.”

“Why does _that_ matter?” Crow asked, a slight edge to his voice. “Especially if — _since_ there won’t be any more Christmases after this.”

“Look, no matter what happens, we’re only going to have one first Christmas with Jonah,” Tom said. “Whatever comes after this, he’s going to remember this one forever. We’ve got one chance to get it right, so let’s make it count.”

“Why do you care so much?” Crow demanded. “You’ve never cared about getting Christmas ‘right’ before. What’s going on with you?”

Tom bobbed in a sort of shrug. “Our last Christmas on Earth, I really wanted to get Joel these cufflinks made out of circuit boards, but I didn’t want to spend that much money. _Well_ , I thought, _I’ll wait for a sale and get them for him next year._ Then…” He trailed off, letting the silence finish his thought.

None of them spoke for a minute or two.

“Do you think he’d like a slush puppy machine?” Gypsy finally asked.

With that, the suggestions began flying back and forth like rubber bands in a grade school classroom.

“Maybe some unicorn putty?” Tom ventured.

“How about a bubble wrap calendar?” Crow suggested.

Tom scoffed. “So he can pop _one bubble_ to count each day that he’s stuck here? Great idea. What about a circle comb?”

 _Beep-beep-beep._ Crow tilted his head. “Huh. There’s an idea, Cambot. Maybe we can get him an experience?”

“Like goat yoga?” Gypsy offered.

The other three stared at her. “You know,” Tom said dryly, “I was _just thinking_ we needed _goats_ up here. That would really complete the experience.”

“You’re so tense, Tom,” Gypsy retorted. “It’s time you find your chi.”

“While a goat tramples over me — good thinking, Gyps!” Tom said sarcastically. Before she could reply, he quickly added, “Okay, just throwing out ideas isn’t working. We’ve got to _start_ somewhere.”

“Why don’t we start with what we can afford?” Gypsy suggested. “Crow, what do you have?”

Crow darted off to his room and returned shortly with his piggy bank. Without warning, he smashed it on the floor, making Tom and Gypsy jump. He sorted and peered through the shards of pink porcelain before triumphantly holding up a single silver coin. “A quarter.”

“Okay.” Tom considered for a moment, ignoring Gypsy’s mutters about how _she_ wasn’t cleaning that up. “I have…some hard candy that I dug out of the couch cushions during our last movie night on Earth. It’s a little fuzzy.”

Crow jumped up and pointed. “I _knew_ it! I _knew_ that was you —”

“I have millions of dollars at my disposal,” Gypsy noted, cutting him off. “Unfortunately,” she added somewhat sourly, “it’s all tied up in ConGypsCo stock back on Earth.”

Cambot beeped several times.

Crow’s jaw dropped. “You have twenty thousand dollars, Cambot?”

_Beep, beep…beeeeeeeeep._

“…in savings bonds you bought last year,” Tom finished dryly. “Here’s some unsolicited advice: why don’t you _lead_ with that next time? Or just not mention it at all?”

“So,” Crow said slowly, “we’ve got…a quarter.” He held the coin in question like a diamond, staring at it. “Well, what can you get for a quarter?”

“Besides your incorrect weight?” Gypsy sniffed.

Crow rolled his eyes. “Gypsy, just because your head is grossly disproportionate to your length —”

_“Crow T. Robot, I —”_

“Gyps, we’re not at the Mall of America anymore,” Tom said. He sighed. “Looks like we’re gonna have to go the homemade route.”

“Oh, don’t be so condescending, Tom,” Gypsy scolded. “Homemade gifts are wonderful things.”

“So what should we make?” Crow asked.

“Indoor snowballs?” Tom tried.

“Peppermint bark?” Gypsy offered.

 _Beep-beep-beep._ Crow rolled his eyes. “Cambot, I think it’s _you_ who wants the Christmas bow bobby pins.”

Cambot gave a low beep in response.

“Maybe we should start with a different question,” Tom said. “What does Jonah like?”

Unexpectedly, there was silence for several long minutes. The four of them exchanged several glances, none of them willing to acknowledge the uncomfortable truth that was starting to emerge.

“What _doesn’t_ he like?” Crow tried.

The ensuing silence was even longer and more uncomfortable.

“Either we all agree that Jonah likes everything…” Tom said slowly.

_Beep, beep._

“Exactly, Cambot.” Crow sighed. “Or none of us know what he doesn’t like.”

Somehow, that realization seemed to disturb them more than discovering they didn’t know what he liked.

“How long have we been stuck up here with him?” Tom asked after another minute of silence. He shook fiercely as Crow opened his mouth. _“Don’t_ answer that. At any rate, it’s been long enough that we _should_ know these things.”

“So why don’t we?” Gypsy asked sharply. “Do we know anything about Jonah _at all?”_

“We played Never Have I Ever with him that one time —” Crow started.

“That doesn’t count and you know it,” Tom snapped.

_Beep-beep-beep-beeeeeeeeeeeep._

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Cambot,” Tom sighed, exasperated. “You have _one job_ — to watch Jonah’s every move — and even _you_ don’t know?” He shook from side to side. “God, this is —”

“Ridiculous?” Gypsy asked.

“Pathetic?” Crow offered.

_Beep._

“I was going to say ‘unbelievable,’” Tom admitted, “but those work, too.” He sighed again. “So now what?”

More silence followed. None of them might have been sure what they would do next, but they were all in unspoken agreement about what they would _not_ do: revisit Gypsy’s question about _why_ they didn’t know Jonah.

Not when they had already come dangerously close to asking why they hadn’t thought about Christmas before.

So, after a few minutes, Tom eventually opted for a safer question. “What do you get someone you barely know?”

“A nine-dollar candle?” Gypsy offered, with the slightest hint of disdain.

“A gift card?” Crow suggested.

“Butter socks?” Tom tried.

 _Beep-beep-beep._ Crow frowned in response to Cambot’s query. “Don’t you give Pandora charms to your wife?”

“Does Pandora even have a mad scientist charm?” Tom shook from side to side, secretly relieved that the tension was dissipating. “Never mind, we’re getting off topic. Maybe we’re asking the wrong question.”

Crow shook his head, his tone a warning as he spoke. “Tom —”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be asking what to give someone we don’t know,” Tom murmured, ignoring him. “Maybe we should be asking: what should we give him so we can get to know him?”

Crow, Gypsy and Cambot all looked at each other, momentarily confused before they realized what Tom was saying.

 _“Ohhh!_ That’s a good point, Tom.” Crow was willing to concede that so long as they could stay far away from…other topics.

“How interesting!” Gypsy’s circuits were firing on all cylinders. “What do you give someone you don’t know, but _want_ to?”

The four of them mulled over the problem for some time.

“We could — no, that wouldn’t work,” Tom mused.

“How about — no, that might blow up the ship,” Crow pondered.

“Or what if — no, much too impractical,” Gypsy sighed.

It was Cambot who suddenly burst forth with a flurry of excited beeps, causing them all to whip towards him like screen doors in a tornado.

“Slow down, Cambot. What are you —?” Tom, and the others, leaned forward as Cambot repeated his beeps, more slowly and clearly this time, then gradually sat up as he began to understand. After a moment, Gypsy, then Crow, began to nod, hesitantly at first, then more excitedly as Cambot continued to describe his idea.

“Yeah! And then we could —” Crow started.

“I think we can —” Gypsy jumped in.

Tom bobbed up and down vigorously. “Yes, that’s perfect! We just need —”

The four of them spent the next hour plotting and planning and perfecting. By the time the meeting broke up, all of them were full of mustard, barely able to contain themselves and counting the days until Christmas would come.

Yes. This _would_ work.

o~O~o

“Merry Christmas, Jonah!” Crow, Tom and Gypsy chorused, Cambot beeping the sentiment. So saying, Crow pushed a hastily-wrapped gift box across the table towards Jonah, its stick-on bow just barely clinging to the loosely taped seams of wrapping paper like a drowning man to a life preserver.

“Oh, you guys — and Gypsy.” Jonah smiled, genuinely touched. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“We know,” the three verbal ’bots replied dryly, Cambot beeping with them.

“This speaking in unison isn’t going to be a regular thing, is it?” Crow whispered to Tom as Jonah pulled off the bow.

“No,” Tom and Gypsy responded. Cambot beeped.

Jonah tore open the paper to reveal…a box? It was black, narrow and rectangular, about several inches long. He looked at them questioningly for a moment before taking off the lid.

The box was filled with several dozen black cards and at least twice that many white cards, all lined up neatly. As the ’bots leaned forward in anticipation, Jonah curiously pulled a few black cards from the box and held them up to read.

_What’s your favorite way to relax?_

_What’s your perfect sandwich?_

_You’re awesome at _____________._

_If Elvis is still alive, he’s ____________._

He looked up at them, still not understanding. “Guys — and Gypsy? Is this a game? And what do you mean _if_ Elvis is still alive?”

“Those are the questions,” Gypsy explained.

“Now look at the answers,” Crow added, barely disguising his smirk. Beside him, Tom was wriggling in his hover, hardly able to contain himself.

Jonah returned the black cards to the box and took out some white ones. He started to read them — and was so startled he almost dropped the lot.

“What the —?”

_Drinking alone._

_Eating the last known bison._

_Pretending to care._

_Our first chimpanzee president._

Jonah quickly shuffled through more of the white cards and soon discovered the majority of the “answers” were not nearly as…PG. Or PC. Hastily putting them down, he looked back up at the ’bots, who seemed to be studying his reaction.

“Guys — and Gypsy,” he finally managed, “what is this?”

“We were talking about what gift to get you,” Gypsy said, “and we realized, for all the time we’ve been up here with you, we really don’t know you very well.”

“And then Cambot remembered this game we used to play back on Earth,” Tom continued, as Cambot elevated just slightly. “It was called Cards Against Humanity.”

“Let’s just say we got to know some _very_ interesting things about the people we used to play it with,” Crow said gleefully.

“As it turns out,” Tom went on, “you can make your own version at home. So we printed out all the white cards —”

“And made up our own black ones,” Gypsy finished.

Jonah stared. “So…you’ll ask the questions, and I’ll give the answers?”

“Not just you.” Crow shook his head. “We figured, if we didn’t know you that well, the opposite was probably true, too. So _you_ get to ask us questions, too. _If_ you want to,” he added, his tone slightly subdued.

Jonah’s grin was so wide he wasn’t sure if he could fit it through the doorway. “Well, of course I want to! I want to get to know all of you, too. But — but why —?”

“It’s pretty simple, Jonah,” said Tom. “Why _shouldn’t_ we? We’re going to learn _everything_ about you, Jonah Heston.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “You’ll never be able to get rid of us, once we know _all_ your secrets.”

“Exactly,” said Crow. He moved closer to join Tom. “You’ll have to keep us close by forever and ever and ever and _ever_ …”

“And much longer than that!” Gypsy piped up. Cambot chirped his agreement.

For a few moments, Jonah couldn’t speak. For so long he had been trying to make the best of everything, including befriending his robot companions, and at times had felt as though his efforts were never enough. The ’bots might have come to accept him, but they weren’t his friends, not like they had been for his predecessors. And he was fine with that. Really. So long as they weren’t trying to kill him.

Now, after more days than he cared to count, the ’bots were finally reaching out to him, in the only way they knew how. So they claimed they only wanted to know his deepest, darkest secrets (what few there were). But they had still said, _We want to know you._

Somehow, that meant so much more than he would ever have believed a simple card game could.

He looked at each of them in turn, and wondered, truly, what he’d done to deserve all of them, at his side, in these circumstances. Sure, he had speculated about that topic many times before, but never in the light he was seeing it now.

Maybe his situation wasn’t exactly ideal. Certainly, there were things he’d like to change. But not them. Never them.

Quickly, before they could escape, Jonah reached out and swept Tom and Crow into a hard, fierce hug. Despite their squirms and protests, Jonah would have sworn that, if only for a moment, the two of them leaned into his touch. Gypsy descended from the ceiling to rest her head on his shoulder, and Cambot settled on the other one.

Surrounded by his ’bots — well, as much his as they were anyone’s — Jonah couldn’t have imagined anything better.

“Guys — and Gypsy,” he murmured, “ _you_ are the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

 

 _“How much fun it’s gonna be together_ _  
_ _This Christmas…”_

_~ “This Christmas”, Donny Hathaway_


End file.
